He's your what?
by writer-princess
Summary: In which a lot of people learn something about Travis and Wes and where some people lose money.


Hey guys,  
So this is something in a new fandom. My first Common Law fanfic. I hope you guys will like it. No beta so mistakes are all mine.

* * *

Wesley Mitchell had never been a patient person, especially when someone was late. Wes considered that tardiness was the worst flaw someone could possess… and to his greatest dismay, his partner had it.  
Throughout the years he had learned to deal with other people's tardiness, but every time Travis was late, it pissed him off. What was so complicated about being on time? It pissed him even more because Travis knew that Wes didn't like tardiness.  
Wes was starting to think that Travis did it just to infuriate him. It was such at Travis thing to do. And he was good at it too; it's easy to know which buttons to push when you spend the three-quarters of your life with someone.

So there he was, standing in the hallway before their therapy session and waiting for one Travis Marks. He was pacing, alternately glancing at his watch and at his phone. Where the hell was that big goof he called his partner? Wes was seriously considering leaving another exasperated message on his voicemail - what kind of cop didn't answer his cell anyway? - When his own phone rang. Caller ID clearly stating Travis' name.

"Seriously, Travis? Where the hell are you? You're late for the..."

He didn't get to finish as a feminine voice cut him off.

"Am I speaking to Mr. Wesley Mitchell?"  
"Yes, that's me. Where is Travis? Is he okay?"  
"I'm Cynthia Donavan; I'm a nurse at the L.A. Medical Center. Mr. Marks was brought in 45 minutes ago and you are listed as the next of kin."  
"How bad is it?"  
"I'm sorry, but I can't disclose this kind of details over the phone."  
"Alright, I understand... I'll be there in twenty minutes." Wes said, trying to keep calm and not scream at the woman like he so desperately wanted to.

Instead he hung up, walked to the room where the other couples were waiting and dropped the news on everyone.

"I have to leave."  
"Wes?" Dr. Ryan asked, noting his pale face.  
"Travis is in the hospital... I don't know much. They didn't want to talk over the phone. I have to leave." He repeated, before leaving the room under the dumbstruck expression of the others.

WMTM

Wes had no idea how he had made it to the hospital. Everything seemed blurry as he made his way through the emergency waiting room to the nurses' desk.

"Hi" He said. "Someone call me, my partner was brought in about an hour ago, Travis Marks?"

He recognized the look on the nurse's face. He had worn the same look every single time he had to announce to someone that their loved ones were in trouble or dead. Wes hoped it wasn't the second one because trouble always seemed to follow Travis. So he could get back from trouble, he couldn't get back from death.

"What happened to him? Is he okay?"  
"Your partner was shot in the abdomen. When he got here, he was rushed in surgery. He's in critical condition. I don't have more information for the moment. We'll keep you inform as soon as we know more. You can wait in the waiting room."

Wes repressed the urge to ask her if she always pointed the obvious. Who knew the waiting room was made to wait. But he needed her to stay happy with him if he wanted her to keep him inform. He knew he couldn't charm his way like Travis, so he needed to be the nice, worried and respectful next of kind.

WMTM

Wes had been waiting for a few hours, he didn't even know how many now... alright, that was a lie, it had been 3 hours, 24 minutes and 46 seconds since he had sat down to wait when his phone rang. He looked down at it, seriously intended on closing it when he took note of who was calling. Alex. He knew Alex wouldn't give up on calling; it was one of the traits she shared with Travis. One he found to be most annoying. He sighed before answering.

"Marks."  
"Are you okay? Captain Sutton called me. He said Travis was in the hospital. He's having surgery? Is he okay? Do you have news? How are you holding up? Do you want me to come down?"  
"Alex, I can only answer your questions one at the time."  
"Then get talking."

If Wes didn't know any better, he would have been jealous; he would have thought that she had something going on with his partner. He knew better though. Alex and Travis were friends and even though they weren't married or in love anymore Alex and Wes still cared about each other. Ever since Wes had gotten over her, things had been better between them - and yes, no matter how much he hated to admit it, it was because of therapy.  
Through the years of his partnership with Travis, Wes had overlooked a lot of things, then after his divorce, he had underestimated a whole lot more, but therapy had help put all or this behind. Wes could honestly he was happier now. Well he had been before Travis got himself shot and in surgery.

"I'm fine, I'm holding up. Travis is surgery and I don't know much. He got shot in the abdomen. No I don't need you to come down. Hospitals aren't exactly known for their comfort and I don't know how long it'll be."  
"I'll be there in 15."

Wes didn't say anything. He was grateful to Alex. She still knew him best than anyone else, except maybe Travis... Travis! Wes puts his head in his hands. It wasn't supposed to be like that, they should have been driving together. He should have been with Travis this morning, where he could have his back.  
But they had argued that morning... well more than usual. It had been a serious matter And Wes had refused to even talk about it. He had told Travis that if he wasn't happy with the way things were now he could always leave… and Travis had left.  
He'd gotten on that damned bike of his and had driven off. Wes had known that Travis would show up to therapy, he always did, no matter how much they fought… he didn't have much of a choice, anyways. Wes shook his head; he didn't have time to dwell on this, he still had a lot of calls to make.

WMTM

When Alex walked in the waiting room, Wes was standing with his back to her, talking on the phone. She watched him hang up before turning around, a forced smile on his lips for her. It had always creped her out, the way her ex-husband had always seemed to know when she was watching him… when anyone was watching him, really.  
He'd get that annoyed look on his face and turned around to glare at whoever would be starting at him. Alex had figured out pretty early that the one person Wes didn't feel looking at him was Travis; the same Travis that was lying somewhere near on an operation table. She sighed at the thought before taking the few steps separating her from her ex.

"No need to smile. I know you." She half-whispered. "Who was that?"  
"The last of Travis' foster moms. Most of them are driving down right now. The others will be there later tonight. They said they were calling his siblings."  
"Alright, that's good news. So, how are you feeling?"  
"We had a fight." He said, completely ignoring her question. "That's why we weren't together today."  
"It's not your fault, Wes."  
"Yes, it is. If I had just agreed he was right, we wouldn't be here, Alex."  
"Was he?" she asked.  
"Huh?"  
"Right. Was Travis right?"  
"What does it change?"  
"Travis wouldn't want you to agree with him if you thought he wasn't right."  
"This conversation, he would have. It's not the first time we had it."

Realization seemed to hit Alex as she sighed.

"Wes..."  
"I know. It wouldn't change anything. People who matter wouldn't care. It's just... I don't know, Alex."  
"I do. Travis isn't me. You and he aren't you and me. Do you realize that we talked more about Travis now that we're divorced than we talked about us the whole time we were married?"  
"Alex..." He almost whined.  
"Don't worry. Travis will come out of this. He knows I'd kicked his ass for missing dinner at my place."  
"I'm the one cooking." He smiled a little.  
"Still my place."

They stayed in silence for a while until a big Samoan guy with multiple tattoos came in the room, walking directly towards them. Alex pushed herself in her chair, that guy looked pretty pissed. Wes put a comforting hand on her arm before turning his attention to the man.

"Where's T-Bone?" He asked.  
"Still in surgery. They won't tell us anything."

The man seemed to realize Alex's presence.

"Who's that?"  
"Money, this is Alex my ex-wife. Alex, this is Money, one of Travis's foster brothers. Alex is friend with Travis, she came when she heard."  
"Hi."  
"Hey. What happened, Wes?"  
"I don't know. I wasn't there. He drove off on his bike this morning."

Money looked strangely serious before turning to Wes.

"It's not your fault. Travis would kick your ass if he knew you were thinking that… and then he would tease you to no ends."

Wes didn't say anything. The three of them sat in silence for a while until the rest of Travis's foster families arrived. Alex stepped aside, watching Wes interact with Travis's families. She could hardly believe what she saw. Wes was moving from one family member to another, small sad smile on lips but looking perfectly comfortable in this huge crowd. It was far from the Wes that had looked ready to die while with her family or even his own.

"Good afternoon, Alex." A feminine voice called behind her.

Alex turned around, smiling softly.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Ryan." She answered. "Everyone."

She nodded to the three other couples she figured where Wes and Travis's therapy buddies. They excused themselves, taking available seats around the room between Travis's family members and the two men's coworkers.

"Impressive and interesting isn't? How Wesley fits in with Travis's families, but not in his." Dr. Ryan said.  
"Yes, it is."  
"They have gotten rather close throughout the last months. You wouldn't know anything about that would you."

Alex kept quiet.

"Alright…"

It took a few more hours before a doctor in dark blue scrubs entered the waiting room and walked to them.

"For Travis Marks." He asked.  
"Yes." Their whole gang said, all standing up like one man.

The doctor looked around bewildered.

"Uhm… I'm looking for a Wesley Ma…"  
"Mitchell. Yes, that's me." Wes cut him. "How is he?"  
"We lost him once on the table, but he is stable for now. He's still critical and there is a big chance he might slip in a coma."  
"He's what?"  
"Look, I know it sounds scary, okay. It's not usual for people to slip in a coma, but it's not unheard of. He's a fighter, he's healthy, fit… he has great chances of complete recovery. The head nurse wanted me to give you this."

The surgeon placed a ring in Wes's outstretch palm.

"The rest of his belongings are at the front desk in a bag. He wouldn't let us take it off until we promised to give it to you."  
"Thank you." He said tightly.  
"Don't worry Mr. Mitchell; your husband will be fine.

Gasps and whispers were heard behind them, making Wes close his eyes. He felt someone walking to him, putting his hand on his shoulder. He knew that hand… Alex. He lowered his head, before he started giggling. But then it evolved into a full blown uncontrollable laugh.

"Wes?" He heard Alex asked him.  
"Damn it! Even when he's half-dead, he finds a way to have the last word, to win every fight, doesn't he?"

To anyone that wasn't aware of Travis and Wes's relationship – well, not that they really know much about it, apparently – that comment would have seemed tactless, thoughtless, even heartless. But for them, it was normalcy. Banter, complaining, arguing… it meant that they were going to be fine. That Travis was going to be fine.

"Wes" Alex asked again.  
"The moment he's back on his feet, I'm kicking his ass."  
"I'll let you know when you can get in to see him. Should be a matter of minutes." The doctor excused himself.

Wes watched him walk away; mentally preparing himself to deal with the fallout he knew was coming. Surely enough, the moment he turned around it was a chorus of voices. Questions, opinions, exclamations, protestations filled the room.

"Everyone… Alright, everyone…" Alex tried to be heard.

But even her best I'm-a-badass-lawyer-and-I'm-right-you-know-I'm-right-so-you're-going-to-listen-to-me voice couldn't break through the crowd. A loud whistle ripped through the air, making people turn around to the origin of it. Alex sent a thankful look at Money.

"If you speak all at once, there is no way Wes can answer to any of you."

A wave of protestations was heard, but Alex stared them down.

"We could let Wes explain."

Wes could feel the weight of the expectations from his therapy bodies, his coworkers and Travis's families.

"I just… Look, this is Travis's department. He does enough talking for the two of us. So, the cat is out of the bag; what do you want me to say? Know that Travis wanted to tell you, alright. I'm the ass who didn't want to tell anyone. Be mad at me not at him. I just… I'm going to go see Travis, okay? When Travis is better we'll explain. If you can't wait that long, talk to Alex. She knows most of the story anyway." Wes sighed, before leaving.

He walked to a nurse who kindly directed him to Travis's room. Wes had to stop when he got to the room. It wasn't the first time he saw someone in a hospital bed after being shot, but this time it was different. It wasn't that Travis looked worse. In fact, if it hadn't been Travis, Wes would have said that he looked pretty good. But, this was Travis. The man lying in a hospital bed, bandages around the head and a wrist, IV drip in the arm and nasal cannula was his Travis, his husband. The only positive thing about all this was the constant heart monitor, beeping at a regular, normal, soothing pace… that and the fact that Travis didn't seem to be in pain. Wes carefully sat down in a chair next to the bed, trying not to disturb anything. He grabbed Travis's hand and held it tightly in his.

"You have to get better, Trav. I need you to get better, okay? I can't do this alone. They know it. Everyone knows it. I don't think there's a single person we know who doesn't know it. I bet they're all texting everyone who's not here the news. So you can't let me face this alone. I know we swore till death do us part, but you better not die on me, got that pal. I know we are bound to die, but not for a few decades, you hear me." Wes said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He feels a tear running down his cheek.  
"You know I love you, right. I don't think I've ever felt that for anyone, not even Alex. I loved her, hell I still do, but not like I love you. Don't get me wrong, you get on my nerves all the time. You always know which buttons to push and you do it every day. I hate it when you steal my bottle of hand sanitizer. You know it so you do it every morning while I'm on the coffee run. Then there's the stapler, the music in the car, the feet on the dashboard, your incapacity to clean behind yourself or to cook.  
"But all of those things, they make you who you are. And I wouldn't change that for anything in the world. Your ass is mine Marks and I'm keeping it. Partly because I love you, but mostly because your funeral would be a pain to organize." He tried to joke.  
"God, I love you so much Travis." He whispered, tears flowing freely down his cheeks now.  
"He knows, sweetheart." A soft voice came from the door.

Wes turned his head to find Margie, the mom who makes the best Tamales aka Tamales mom, standing there. Wes never told Travis, but when Travis started bringing him around to family gatherings, he nicknamed every mom so he could remember their place in Travis's history. Margie, the Tamales mom, is one of his favorite. She could have been the TSA mom, but somehow the Tamales mom seemed a better nickname.

"Hey, Margie. How's Alex doing out there? She's okay with the angry crowd?" He asked, even though he's not really concerned about Alex, not when Money is around. Travis likes Alex, so Wes knows Money will keep everyone else in line.  
"That's a good girl you got there, Wes. Nothing to worry about. And they are not mad… well not really mad about you and my son." She said in a patronizing voice, that made Wes feel like he was a kid again.  
"Then what are they mad about?"  
"Not being told, not being invited to the wedding, losing bets… the usual."  
"What?"  
"Wes, I love you and Travis as if you were my own sons, but both of you are idiots. It's obvious to anyone with eyes that you and Travis love each other. We're just disappointed that you didn't tell us."  
"Well, like I said… It's my fault."  
"It's okay. We'll deal with it later. I'm going to rally the troops and send every one home, alright. I'll tell them to come back tomorrow."  
"Thanks, Margie."  
"No biggies. I doubt it'll work for everyone, though." She said with a knowing smile.  
"Tell Cap, Alex, Money and Dr. Ryan that they can come in, but one at the time. Nurses' orders."  
"Alright, well see you in the morning."

With that Margie left. The first one to walk in was Money.

"Jeez, you could have told me you got married to T-Bone." He said to Wes, shaking his head in a reproachable way.  
"Why?"  
"I would have won that bet months ago. Easiest 500 I ever made." He said with a smirk.  
"What? You bet 500 dollars on us."  
"Yeah. It was easy money, I'm just glad you got together when you did. A week later and I was losing that 500." When he saw that Wes wasn't going to talk, he sighed. "I've got to get back to the shop. But I'll be back tomorrow. If he wakes up tell him I said to get his ass out of bed."  
"I will."

Money nodded to Wes, before leaving. The latter was sure Dr. Ryan would be the next in line, so he was surprised when Captain Sutton walked in.

"Really, Wes?"  
"Really what, Captain?"  
"Do you have any idea how much paperwork this mess will take?"  
"What? You're not going to separate us, are you?"  
"Are you out of your mind? After all it took me to get the two of you to work together. I don't think so. And what's that thing about getting married without inviting me? I'm the one who sent you two guys two therapy, aren't I?"  
"Yes sir."  
"You know how paperwork works Mitchell. How much do you think it's going to take me to make sure the two of you stay partners **after getting married**? Even when the two of you get along, you're no good for my blood pressure."  
"Sorry."  
"Don't apologize. Get that big goofy husband of yours back on his feet. You're out of rotation, so Scott and Gooding are my principal investigators. They're not bad on my blood pressure, but they're not as good as you two… But don't tell them I said that."  
"Right sir."

Captain Sutton made it to the door, before turning towards Wes again.

"Mitchell?"  
"Yes, sir?"  
"Congratulations. I knew the two of you worked well together."  
"Thanks, cap!"  
"Oh, and by the way… it's damn time you got together."

Without any other word, Sutton left. He was soon replaced by Dr. Ryan.

"This a therapy visit or a friendly one?" He asked in a sigh.  
"Depends on how you're doing."  
"I'm fine."  
"Therapy it is, then."  
"Seriously?"  
"It's not your fault."  
"You don't know the whole story."  
"I know enough. You got married three months ago. Travis is the one who proposed. You said yes immediately. You had a small wedding, only Alex was present, because she caught you at city hall. Travis wanted to tell, you didn't. You had a fight over it this morning, he drove off on his bike. He stopped at a convenience store a couple blocks from here. Some guys tried to hold-up the store. There were three kids and a pregnant woman, Travis got between them and the gunmen, shot the two of them, got three in the abdomen. So definitely not your fault."  
"Yeah, well… It just so stupid that I didn't want to tell. The only thing that matters to everyone is that they weren't invited to the wedding."  
"Guess you need to do a real ceremony this time."  
"Guess we do."  
"How are you feeling?"  
"Like crap. You can leave, you know."  
"Then this just turn to a social call. I'm sorry for Travis, but I'm glad the two of you worked out your differences."  
"Yeah? We still need therapy apparently."  
"Oh, you do! You do realize this means you will have to do exactly as the other couples."  
"We'll argue on this later."  
"I have to go, I have a session in twenty minutes."  
"Thanks for coming."  
"You're welcome."

Wes spent the most part of the evening with Alex, before he sent her home for the night. It happened in the middle of the night, Wes was still awake. He was holding Travis's hand, but was lost deep in thoughts when a voice brought him down to Earth.

"You look like crap."  
"Travis! God! You look like crap too, you know."  
"I got shot, I'm allowed to. And I love you too."  
"Everyone knows."  
"Yeah, I've heard. How are you holding up?"  
"Should have told long ago."  
"I told you so."  
"You're proud of yourself aren't you?"  
"Yup."  
"You can wipe that smug grin off of your face. We have to get married now."  
"But we're already married."  
"Yes, but this time we have to have a ceremony and the whole damn thing."  
"Oh, crap!"  
"Yes, I feel you,man."

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What did you think? Pleas leave a review. Because reviews make my day. Even if it's just one word.  
Love, Anne


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